Erythnul's Citadel
by ParkedRV
Summary: Story based on home DnD game that I had ran and then started to create my own adventure. I moved away never got a chance to play but to honor those characters and to keep the idea in my mind I am writing this story. Please reveiw honestly as well as with subject matter knowledge. I am not a writer and this story and idea are meant for the players to fill my framework.
1. Intro

They chased off the villain. They destroyed his pets. They thwarted his plot. They received the secrets and discovered the treasure he sought. They defeated his general. They burned his army. They ruined his reputation, and they mocked his cult. They were indoctrinated into a sect devote to defend everything he was against by the statue of a forgotten king, who ruled a land long lost. Finally, they rested, right there in the very room that he ran from, the throne room where they might all rest without fear, for the statue of the king stood watch.

This is not that story. That story has ended. This is not his story. His story leads to the Underdark. This story leads to the cosmos. This is hardly even their story, they are merely the actors, the players, the pawns.


	2. Chapter 1

"This area will do the king has promised his protection over us" Vikas reassured.

The cleric found a spot near the fire Harold Mastif had started and began to take off his armor, taking time as each piece was removed to account for dents, scratches, blood, rips, and holes of which there were few. He unrolled his bedroll and sat down taking his turn in casting lots for the treasure '_The Snake'_ had left behind. Most of the items they found were passed out by need or usefulness but when it came to gold, jewels, and in this particular case 4 distinctly magical daggers of varying origin and power, they each glow a different color; yellow, white, black and blue.

"Aye I'll have the black'un"

"Mastif we will do this as we always have, through lots, I have here four stones of colors that match the daggers we shall place them in this bag and withdraw one at a time a stone. Keep it closed in your fist and when each of us has one we will reveal."

"Yer way 'tis but I'll be first."

They all conceded to this agreement because as helpful a companion as Harold Mastif can be he can be even more difficult, it often seems his only desire in life is to fight or argue.

St. Cuthbert's Fist passed the bag with the four stones to Mastif after reminding him to take only one stone and that he was to return it when they were no longer sorting the loot. Harold thrust his hand deep into the small bag and touched each stone with his thumb and counted 17 touches and immediately grasped that stone. He then tossed the bag to Vikas.

"That's one way to go about it, but I, I Vikas the Wise and Pious will trust in the clerical way" with that Vikas closed his eyes and reached in firmly grasping each rock to determine which was the most painful to grasp and selected the third of the three.

Passing the bag to Adelaster, Vikas switched the hand the stone was held in and silently rubbed his cut hand. The elf took the bag shook it once to make sure there was only two stones left, she then reached in and took one out a handed the bag to St. Cuthbert's Fist.

"Okay show them" he ordered taking the bag and tipping it over, out fell a white pearl. Around the circle everyone showed their jewel; Harold Mastif came out holding a flat piece of obsidian, Vikas held the auburn topaz, and Adelaster held the sapphire.


	3. Chapter 2

The daggers started to tremble, shake, and spin, as though they were erupting, and they did with a bright and furiously blinding light. This sent Harold Mastif into a fit of screaming and thrashing to defend him from whatever attack had befallen them.

When they could see again the daggers were in the hands of their new possessor, each had changed slightly; St. Cuthbert's Fist was the least changed it remained an average dagger with a slight white glow and the word _Veritas _inscribed on the blade. Next was Vikas' dagger which had the glow of the sun and a blade in a classic lightning bolt shape. Adelaster's dagger now had a wooden hilt painted white and boasting a heart shape at the end of the handle, the blade was the stark piercing blue of a calm sea and had just the faintest glow.

Last to open his eyes and marvel at what had appeared in his hand was Harold Mastif, but when he did look he went from screaming in pain to babbling in disbelief. His dagger no longer illuminated but seemed to deluminate, not in an evil way but in dire manner as if a cloud of distilled seriousness had fallen over the group. The group was in a somber mood as thoughts were filled with past sins and wrong doings, guilt creeping into their hearts. Then a stranger thing happened, Harold turned the dagger over in his hand and on this side the blade was white and the shine was faint to the eyes but bright and lifting to the heart, joy was returned where less than a second ago bleak despair was present, it was a liberating feeling. Harold sheathed the dagger instantly returning the atmosphere to normal. Inspecting the handle of the dagger he saw it was a black metal of indistinguishable origin with white leather wrapped around, and the hand guard was a set of golden scales with a gear in the center that seemed functioning.

With trembling lips and a parched and scratchy throat Harold questioned, "What kind a fools magic is this? Which one of ye spiked my drink?"

"Truly, we had nothing to do with this my comrade. However, an explanation of what has transpired is beyond me to give." The monk quietly responded turning to Vikas.

"Fist, I do not think there is a mortal answer for you here." Vikas responded with authority

Adelaster could not stand the talk of divine intervention, for 13 decades she has been forced to hear this, listen to those around her pray the prayers, and see them devote themselves, their children, their entire life to deities who didn't care. With all this bubbling up inside of her she looked at the three confused men and blurted out, " You blithering fools, blind to truth and indoctrinated by men who would have you be as them so that they could use you, stuck to ideals of gods you don't know and drawing lines, making groups and cults, subverting, persecuting, subjugating. This!", she exclaimed, " this is magic, simply magic."

Harold looked aghast turned to face her, pointed his finger in her face then pointed at his dagger and back to the mage, "This was _simple_ magic?" he finally managed to croak.

"Not simple magic, you, king of idiots and blunders. It is difficult indeed, I would not trust the daggers we hold in our hands, someone has bewitched them." She said in all seriousness with the sole intention of Harold fearing for his life whenever he saw his dagger. It worked; Harold unstrapped his dagger from his belt and threw it across the room where it slid to a stop at the foot of the king's statue.

"Enough, we need to rest now Vikas has already had the area secured thanks to the king's statue so we will have no watch tonight. Harold, go retrieve that dagger, and then bury the fire! Vikas can you divine the intention of these four daggers? Adelaster you help if you have the cantrips available to do so. Give me your packs I will organize and take stock of our gear, one of us may have to head to town in the morning to pick up a few things before we can give chase into the underdark."

As St. Cuthbert's Fist barked the orders they were carried out, Harold wrapped the dagger in his cloak so he wouldn't have to touch it and brought it to the cleric and mage, they then preformed spells and rituals, crushing that, mixing this, a few words, and a prayer from Vikas, a puff of smoke, and a whispered incantation from Adelaster. Then they both went quiet and took in all they had done, seeing what others could not, minutes passed as Harold finished with the fire and St. Cuthbert's Fist began repacking the newly separated stocks. Finally, after a short discussion Vikas and Adelaster agreed.

"There is most likely no harm to life or limb" announced Vikas

"And as far as we can tell your sanity should remain intact" added Adelaster

"That is the best you two can do, MOST likely, sanity SHOULD remain intact. And you want me to trust that?"

"It'll be alright Harold. You may treat your dagger as you please, but you will keep accountability of it." Responded Fist. "Now rest, we have an early morning."

Rest they did, each gathered their gear back from Fist and tucked away personal belongings, removed whatever remaining armor they had been wearing and each tucked the new treasure away, in a pack, a belt, under a pillow, or in Harold's case in his hand watching the gear tick and the scales slide up then down again.


	4. Chapter 3

Sleep came easy to the group and as they slept a clearly vivid dream came to each of them, not the same dream, but close.

St. Cuthbert's Fist was walking from the monastery into town after a long day of training. Clouds were coming but the rain would be a welcome companion on this lonely walk.

The rain as it started falling while Harold Mastif was stumbling drunk down an alley still swearing at the barkeep who had just thrown him out of his favorite tavern.

Vikas, had just finished his evening lessons with the high priest. He left just as the rain began to pick up melting the snow he was trudging through.

Adelaster had just left her room on the outskirts of the academy campus heading to night classes the rain was coming down in earnest now.

There was a hint of a bloodlike smell to the rain and the slightest hissing sound. One grew more and more pungent until it burnt the nostrils, the other drowned out all other sounds as though it were tens of thousands of locust rather than raindrops. Then there was a visual change the rain was blood, the puddles were pools of blood that were transforming, dozens of puddles boiling, steaming and becoming gnolls, bugbears, trolls, ogres and wickedly dressed men with dark scowls and hollow eyes.

They ran each ran with no understanding of what was transpiring, just ran from these denizens of falling blood the din of laughter and howls behind them just heightened their fear. Seeking shelter they each tried doors as they reached them but as they knocked or grasped or tried to bash, blood seeped from the pores of the wooden planks turning them away. At last they saw a tiny tavern with a weather worn sign depicting what could be a decaying citadel high upon a mountain top. They ran faster using all their remaining energy and a step away from the door they tripped.


	5. Chapter 4

They awoke in unison screaming, panting or simply savoring the dream committing each detail to memory and remembering things that others forgot to notice. Vikas and Fist, who had been adventuring together for awhile now and understood each other quite well looked at each other, knowing the others thoughts and fearing they were right.

"_I confess we are not at our own mercy anymore, I fear that something is moving us._" The thoughts flowed from Fist and Vikas understood and agreed.

"_We must keep these thoughts from these two you understand, they do not yet know the signs we have seen they are not studied as we are in these matters."_Vikas thought in return.

"_You are wrong my friend it would be unwise to leave them in the dark in this matter someone or someone's have called us to something beyond ourselves we should prepare them that we may have all things prepared and the greatest chance to overcome our enemy" _Fist's thoughts were strong, not angry or forceful, but clearly he believed it was the only course of action.

"_You speak the truth Fist, but let us take time to understand the signs. If we are correct in our predictions there will be more and hopefully a more opportune time to share them" _Vikas countered, hoping that the wisdom in greater understanding would stay his friends tongue for awhile.

"_Erythnul comes! He is sending his horde. We have been called as champions. St. Cuthbert has called me to the order of the Croix-Blanc, to end the life of the demon to come! Pelor has given you the rays of the sun! Lendys demands Harold to hand out judgement! Roa has made Adelaster a harbinger of peace for a day when none shall be found! They must know!" _Fist thought, not through shouts but with a flame in his heart that had erupted with the severity of the situation.

"_Time is all I ask not months not even weeks a few days, I know that the day to reveal all this will come but they must need to believe it before we can share this truth with them." _Vikas ended the conversation with this. Fist conceded, even though he was the leader of the group, he respected the wisdom Vikas had and knew that few could match it in a mortal life.

"Harold, calm down. It is a good time to wake we will head into town together I have a list for everyone, restock your own items if you need to but remember we travel light we do not know what awaits us or for how long we will be in the Underdark. Plan for the worst." Fist announced to everyone.

They packed up their bedrolls, took time for morning prayer and study, Harold thanked the king and placed a copper coin on the kings fist and a small purple rock on top of that as was his ritual whenever they left a campsite. When all things were made ready they headed back to the surface and into town all thoughts remaining on the journey today would bring and the dream last night had brought.


	6. Chapter 5

The trek to town was nearly four hours. The townspeople had hired Vikas and Fist to clear the rabble from the ancient tomb and were prepared to pay when the adventurers arrived. There was a parade, and celebration throughout the entire region. Payment was made and rewards were given mostly in the way of dry goods and raw material making the list of items Fist had given everyone easier, and cheaper, to get all the items.

When they were finished they all agreed to meet one town over just a few miles down the road towards next to the river to get items that were not stocked in this much smaller town. The first to arrive at Riversbend was Adelaster who needed to pick up some rare spell components, new scrolls and have her wands recharged. She arrived first on purpose she did these things in secret because in this land no one not even her companions knew her true nature. She was not a traditional mage she was known well in her homeland as 'The Witch Which Wields.' She was feared and hated by those she had on countless occasions saved, so she fled, laid down the sword, and tried to nestle into the average mage mold. It worked at first but she was always seeking out time to practice with her sword and that is what she did now feeling like she could fake it for the time in the Underdark now she went to the woods and trained in her secret ways.

The next to arrive was Harold Mastif was second to arrive he rushed his list and may have overpayed for somethings and may have stolen others but he didn't care. Once Fist had given the direction to meet at Riversbend by sunset Harold could think of nothing else and had determined to get there first, take a stroll through the docks to admire the tall ships and enjoy a true meal of the sea. Harold was from a sea-faring people and grew up sailing and fishing and eventually plundering. In some circles Harold Mastif was a name to be revered for great victories, outstanding maneuvers, and in one case the saving of his kingdoms entire navy by destroying four approaching enemy ships, giving the rest of the navy time to prepare. In other Circles Harold is infamous as a blundering idiot and drunk, who can't sober up long enough to ever stop being drunk. However you knew Harold you would always recognize him, few people wore kilts in all the lands but Harold always did and in case you still weren't sure it was him you would need only look at his sporran, the purse hanging in the front of his kilt, and see the Family crest resting there. So as Harold walked along the docks he was hailed by many, and when he finally recognized one of these men he stopped there and chatted and ate.

Vikas and Fist walked over together discussing a great many things in very few words. They both knew that the future was not in their control but they were certain they could aid the outcome it by working together not just the two of them but all four, this is what they discussed.

"We were lucky to accomplish the feats we did in that crypt." Fist finally said what they had been thinking for hours now.

"We did well."

"We must work as a team, we must be honest, Harold is burdened by guilt, and Adelaster has not revealed her identity to us, and we withhold knowledge of our future all of our futures."

"It is clear to us because we have been granted clairity, but you are right Fist, there is an issue we must resolve but it is not our truth they need but their truth we all need." Vikas again ended the conversation.

When they arrived at the front gate Fist headed down the main road to a seamstress, as Vikas walked straight to the church for council.

"Sunset remember." Fist shouted back to Vikas.

Fist arrived at the little shop and walked to the back and passed through a curtain and embraced the little shop keeper, an old but bright-eyed female gnome.

"You seem distressed little one" the gnome said

Fist replied not with words but pulled out the dagger and let her examine it. After sometime she embraced him again, saying, "Your path is not an easy, little one, but your training is sufficient you must answer the calling."

"Maieutix, I do not fear the calling I know I am prepared, it is my companions I fear for they have been called as well. Two of them to deities they do not know. What am I to do with them?"

"Their roles will play out just as yours will, they will know and be known but you are not the one with the knowledge to share. Share your wisdom only after the knowledge is shared with them."

"You are wiser than ever Mai. Now that you know my plight, do you have anything for your last monkling?"

"Little one you are not the last just the slowest to make it to the hallway. But no I have nothing left to share with you. Now go the sun is setting" with that she ushered him out the door.

Fist was fed up he hadn't finished a conversation with anyone in days now between Harold always getting the last word and Vikas always being right, he was beginning to lose his temper and that was never a good thing.


	7. Chapter 6

Fist was frustrated and as a devote monk of St. Cuthbert that never boded well for anyone. He had little patience for Harold who though on time and in possession of all the gear he was supposed to have was drunk asleep on the stoop of the customs house. He had even less patience for Vikas who was late and had four bottles of a clear liquid from his mother country. So when Adelaster finally arrived with cuts and bruises and half her traveling cloaked scorched and missing nearly all of her equipment, Fist decided they needed scolded as only St. Cuthbert could.

Now it is widely accepted that the cudgel is St. Cuthbert's conduit for wisdom, however St. Cuthbert's Fist is also a very effective tool. After knocking Adelaster to the ground with one solid punch, He landed three blows into Harold's stomach to help him vomit and sober up a bit. To finish he took each of the bottles Vikas had brought and smashed them one after the other on top of his head, and to bring the point home he took a tinder twig and lit the liquid on fire before throwing him into the nearby fountain.

A Crowd had gathered and a Cleric came bustling through, but by the time he arrived it was over Vikas was hardly even smoking now, Adelaster was just coming to, and Harold was laying on the ground swearing. Fist walked away, picking glass out of his hand and let the cleric do his job. When the priest finished with Vikas he went about helping Adelaster whose wounds were worse, and he finished with throwing some water on Harold to help clean him up. Lastly, the cleric approached Fist, noting the holy symbol emblazoned on Fist's chest he knew what he was dealing with.

"What have they done foolishly, brother monk."

Fist didn't turn around, "They have lied, to me, to each other and worse of all to themselves." He said this loud enough for them to hear, "Honesty with companions is an obligation."

"You cannot force it in this manner; Trust comes when it is given. You must be willing to listen or step down from leadership." With that the priest walked back to Harold splashed him with water again and helped him stand, then he left quietly, the crowd had already moved away.

"You were all wrong to be such fools, I have absolved you of your foolishness for now and it shall remain as such so long as you remain in right mind, and keep possession of your gear." With that he look at Adelaster, that's when he noticed the oddities. She was wearing armor, a stylized breastplate with matching greaves, a jeweled mask less helm that seemed more like a headdress, and a large two-handed sword on her back and a whip at her waste, as well as a shield laying face up at her feet. The shield was smiling at him then it winked, then he saw two arms that he thought were straps push it up and it floated over to him.

He stood cool, detached and finally decided that all these clerics were right Vikas, Mai, and the one who just left they all had it right. He was going to let Adelaster explain in her own time. "We are going now, collect what gear you have with you, put your armor on, Adelaster lead us to the brigands who attacked you."

"Uh yeah I suppose. They were Gnolls I think ten of them or so shouldn't be too hard to follow they weren't exactly sneaking, but I expect they were heading back to the tribe. I was just distracted."

Fist didn't reply, he cleaned the glass out of his hand and got his gear together, Vikas took off his robes and to put on his leathers and half plate. Harold was always dressed for a fight but when he heard there was about to be a fight his entire persona shifted his eyes cleared up he stood tall, straightened his gear, and growled. Adelaster picked up her shield and cast off her cloak, then started walking back the way she came, her shield followed laughing happily and, if it had had legs, skipping.


End file.
